


The Suicidal Squad.

by Rutile



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Also we really need to work on mercy killing, Curse of Strahd, Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, Gen, Mic has to live his dream of flipping off whatever bad guys we face., Our characters are messes tbh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-10 20:35:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12919767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rutile/pseuds/Rutile
Summary: Fate often works in mysterious ways. It's whims are seemingly random, dragging people unexpectedly along into the next chapter of their life with little fanfare or warning. This particular story, however, may be the most extreme case of this happening. In this case, a Tiefling Warlock who needs to loot even from dead bodies, a Dragonborn Rogue who has really fucking good eyes, A half Elf Paladin who's good at slicing shit and scarring birds for life, an alchemist in which no one has any fucking clue what they look like, and a Kenku Fighter who doesn't understand what flipping the bird means all meet together for one hell of an adventure in Mic's eyes.





	The Suicidal Squad.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, this is probably obvious that it's my first time posting something on this site! I'm writing about our campaigns cause it sounded fun to me consider all the bullshit we pull. Shoutout to the dm of our campaign who is rad af and has to deal with my character Mic's dumbass. Hope y'all enjoy!

It’s been a few days since Mic arrived at this small town in Faerun and he was already in deep shit. Usually he would have been chased out of these small towns because everyone thinks he’s going to rob them blind, which he’s not. Instead, he had to start running low on cash. In the tavern he’s been staying at counting the money he had left. Ten gold coins sat in his palms of his clawed hands, which is not as much as he usually had. Mic made a small noise of irritation and shoved the coins back into his bag. Getting up from the slightly creaky bed, Mic gathered all his belonging and went downstairs to see if he can find any jobs to do.  
An hour passed before Mic had any luck finding some job he can do for money. As he wandered around the town, Mic spotted a poster on the wall of some building that had in all caps “500 GOLD REWARD.” Mic immediately rushed over to read the poster over. Apparently, a monster has been attacking any wagons coming into town recently and the townsfolk want it to stop as soon as possible. Being a fighter, Mic was eager to take up the challenge. After quickly memorizing the address, the Kenku ran over to the said address to see a Dragonborn, half elf, and a Tiefling going in at the same time. Probably for the same job he supposed. As the door was swinging shut, the small Kenku slipped in without being noticed by the other three.

Inside the building was an old man and almost complete darkness, except for the lit candle on the desk. He looked up when the four of them entered, seeming a bit startled that a few people were now in the room. He cleared his throat and then said “Ah, yes? Who are you? What do you need?”  
The half elf paladin was the first to speak. “I’m here for the monster hunting?” She seemed to ask. I saw the ad.” The Tiefling warlock nodded her head and then added “Same here.”  
The old man sat up straighter and nodded. “Ah yes, very good. Please, come in.” The man stood up quickly with the candle in his frail hands and proceeds to light more lamps in the room. Mic squints at the sudden light being added to the dark room. As he does this, he continues to speak. “Not often do we get your sort around here. Not to say we aren’t glad to have you though! Real good of you to be willing to help our little town out. I had to scrape together all of the town’s savings to afford this bounty.” Mic nearly winced at that, he almost walked out knowing this but, he really needed the money, so he swallowed his pride and stood his ground. Mic thought he saw the Dragonborn rogue wince out of the corner of his eye, but he ignored it.

After the lamps were lit, the balding man turned to the group and set the candle on a table. “So, I suppose I’ll be to the point. We’ve been facin’ a terrible curse lately, sirs and madams. Some wretched beast been killin’ people along the road. Comes out of nowhere, leaves behind half eaten horses. We know it ain’t no bandits, nothing of value is taken, and there ain’t never been no survivors.”  
Just as the man said this, the door to the room opened suddenly. Mic and some of the others turned to see someone walk through the door, seeming to take in the entire room. They were extremely tall to Mic and not a lick of their features can be seen. They wore a mask reminiscent to a bird and a hat atop their head. The man seemed to ignore the new individual and continued to speak while running a hand through what little hair he had. “Well. There has been one survivor, but she… She ain’t quite right in the head.”

“What happened to her?” the half elf said. Suddenly she clamped her mouth shut and crossed her hands behind her back. Kind of odd to Mic, but whatever.  
“She was travellin’ with her folks… their cart got attacked. She ran away, survived, somehow. She’s staying with Easy Pete, ol’ shoemaker down the way. Don’t talk much anymore. Don’t do much of anything, really. Can’t blame her, poor thing, watching family get ripped apart…” He shudders. “There’s uh… there been a recent attack. Just yesterday. We ain’t moved the bodies yet, or the cart. It’s up into the roads, long that road. I’d suggest startin’ there… unless you think you can get somethin’ out of that poor girl.”

The Dragonborn looked at the rest of the group in the room and asked, “Do we… have to work together?”

The old man blinked. “Well I-I assumed you was a group. But uh, if you aren’t, I guess not? It’s real dangerous out there, though, m.. s…ma’am. Ma’am? I’m sorry, I have a hard time with dragonfolk.” The man struggled to figure out if the Dragonborn is a guy or girl. “It ain’t often we get them out here. You really should stick together. Another corpse will do no one any good.”

Mic made a small humming sound agreeing with the old man. He doesn’t feel like getting killed and possibly roasted by some creature today, no sire. The half elf winced at the man’s words and turned to the rest of the group. “If we are working together,” she started, “then I assume introductions are in order.” Well fuck, Mic thought. This is going to be fun, he couldn’t help but add sarcastically in his head.

“Ah’m Dennis.” The Dragonborn said. “That’s it, I don’t prefer evidence.”

The Tiefling thought, then said “You can’t spend gold if you’re dead. Name’s Fiend.”

The paladin nodded in acknowledgement, then said “Viessa.”

The mask wearing fellow turned to the group and said in a cheery tone “Hello! I’m Cicero, and I’ll be hopefully preventing us from getting us killed.” Their mask seemed to grin as Cicero spoke. Mic already likes this fellow.

Suddenly a loud thumping sound came from Mic’s beak. Everyone in the room looked on in confusion. “Was that…” he could hear Dennis say. Mic also heard Fiend loudly say, “What the fuck?” The half elf had asked “Pardon?” while the old man started to mutter about something falling onto the floor. Cicero exclaimed “Oh!” softly, obvious wonder in their voice.

A flash of irritation crossed Mic’s face as he repeated the sound.

“Your name is that?!” Dennis nearly shouted while Viessa said “Is… that you’re name?” Mic nodded at the duo’s question.

“Okay… what do we call you then? Viessa questioned. Meanwhile Cicero attempted to recreate the sound. “Oh dear.” They sighed. “Seems like I’ll have to work on my pronunciation, I mean no offence with how much I expect to butcher your poor name with my clumsy tongue.” Mic appreciated that Cicero tried. No one ever tries to pronounce his name.

After a few seconds, the sounds of many voices and words being butchered together came out of Mic’s beak into two words. “MiC dRop.” He said proudly.  
Mic could see Viessa widen her eyes almost comically at his shitty, bastardization of speaking, which made him nearly double over in laughter. “I see.” She spoke. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all.”

“I wouldn’t say a pleasure.” Dennis snorted.

Meanwhile, Fiend seemed pretty…something at this situation to Mic. “What am I getting into?” Mic heard the Tiefling mutter to herself, which Mic just shrugged in response. “You’re an interesting one. Are your mimicries perfect?” Fiend asked. Mic, always loves this question, he gets to leave others stunned at his skills. Cracking a grin, Mic said in Fiend’s voice “You’re an interesting one. Are your mimicries perfect?” He saw Viessa jump as Mic said this.

Fiend grinned at the mimicry. “Interesting. Don’t steal my voice and we might just get along.” 

“Okay, so corpses or girl?” Dennis cut in. Before anyone could respond to the spitfire, she continued. “I’m saying corpses will give us a trail to follow, savvy?” What the absolute fuck does savvy mean? Mic crumpled his face in confusion at the last word while the rest responded.

Viessa nodded. “I agree with Dennis. Mic missed the last bit the lady said after that. Something about way of speaking? To each their own he supposed.

Cicero added in “I’m inclined to agree, if the survivor is as much of a lost cause as this man says she is.” Their voice was low enough to assume that they were more so talking to themselves instead of the group  
.  
“No sense in torturing her further” Dennis shrugged. Dennis pulled her hood onto her head more. After the old man pointed out the way to the corpses, Mic and the rest of the group went over. When they got there, it was horrific to say the least. An overturned cart traps an obviously dead man beneath it. Parcels are strewn all over the place and three horse halves can be seen lying on the ground nearby, completely and grotesquely mutilated. The group had varying reactions. Dennis didn’t seem to react much to the site, and it’s hard to tell with Cicero’s mask on their face. Viessa physically turned away from the site while Mic started making the sounds of rushing water, trying not to throw up his breakfast. Meanwhile, Fiend immediately started looting for any goods. Well. Uh, that’s something one can do.

Dennis started inspecting one of the mutilated horse halves while this was all happening. Feeling like he was wasting time, the Kenku fighter started walking over towards the dead man. He noted that Fiend took a bunch of silverware from one of the packages and he could feel Viessa right behind him, going towards the upturned cart where the dead man is at.  
As Mic started investigating the dead man, he could hear Cicero ask, “Figured anything out?” A sudden retching sound, probably from Dennis, started. “It’s airborne.” She said suddenly. Mic continued investigating the body of the man, who as far as he can tell, is very very dead. He’s also missing an eye. Seeing nothing useful (or valuable; they aren’t going to miss it that’s for sure.) Mic shrugged to himself and walked over to Dennis flicking his rapier in and out of it’s sheath out of boredom.

Mic doesn’t really notice as Viessa and Fiend go off near the bushes to see what else is around. A few minutes go by, with Mic being utterly bored, when Dennis suddenly shouts “I’ve got a trail! Sort of. Again, airborne.” The Kenku was impressed that Dennis could find a trail so easily. He walked over to where Dennis was with everyone else joining. Everyone followed Dennis following the very faint trail she picked up, sometimes turning suddenly into a new direction. The group of adventurers finally got to the base of a very tall hill, which becomes a cliff to be about 30 feet high.

Dennis stops at the base. “Hard to tell, but my guess is it went too high or the corpse stopped bleeding.”

“I wonder if there are any footprints around.” Viessa wondered as her eyes darted left to right, trying to pick up any hints of footprints.

‘I have an idea, but it might be dangerous.” Dennis said. As she said this, the warlock grabbed something from her bag. “I guess this would be a good time to mention these.” In Fiend’s palm are feathers from some flying creature.

“Care to share where you found them?” Cicero asked way too pleasantly for this situation.

“They were in the mouth of the dead half orc back at the cart.” She replied. Mic whipped his head towards Fiend. Half orc? Mic made squishing sounds with his mimicry in a questioning manner. Where did she find a half orc?

“Oh.” Viessa’s breath hitched for a moment. “You actually opened her moth to get them out?”

“Yeah?” Fiend looked at the Paladin strangely. “What? It’s not like she’s gonna want them back or anything.” The Tiefling waved the feathers around as she spoke.

Viessa added “Yeah… but she’s dead. It’s disrespectful.”

Dennis cleared her throat, cutting off the conversation between the duo. “Can we not talk about the dead and what possibly happened to them?” Viessa flinched and muttered an apology.

“Life is for the living. If they like their stuff that much, they would have stayed alive to defend it.” And with that, Fiend put the feathers back in her bag.

“I’m thinking we need to get up that cliff or get some bait.” Dennis scratched her head in thought.

Viessa turned to the Dragonborn and asked “What, uh… what sort of bait are we talking about?”

“I can sneak up on the bastard.” She replied. “So, bait is not my job. Anyone wanna dress sexy for the big bird?” Viessa immediately shouted ‘Not it!’ and backed away slightly. While all of this was happening, Mic was regarding the cliff. He’s 99% sure he can get up the cliff. Looking at the cliff, Mic shot the group that was bickering a thumb up and took off running to the cliff.

Finally, Cicero pointed out the obvious as the group argued. “Perhaps the Kenku has volunteered himself.” They mused. The group looked to see Mic running full speed to the cliff.

Mic could hear Dennis say, “Well fuck me, there goes Mic. Wait a minute Mic!” She shouted the last bit. Mic never acknowledged the rest of the group as he finally got up to when the hill became a steep cliff. Mic was the equivalence of a monkey, finding footings most wouldn’t even think were footings and got up to the top in record time. Mic gladly flipped off the group at the top to show he’s okay and turned to find an interesting scene.  
In the distance, Mic could see a Griffon flying around. Fortunately, they were too far to see him. In front of Mic were eggs. What’s off was that Mic could smell them starting to rot, then he noticed why. Arrows were littered around and some of them had hit the eggs, cracking them to where the supposed child will never hatch. Mic has a pretty good feeling someone pissed off the Griffon mother. 

Mic pulled the rope on his side and tied what he thought was the perfect knot he’s ever made, threw it around a boulder on the top of the cli, and then threw down the rope. Mic could see Dennis immediately try to get up, but about 10 feet up, the knot that was 100% perfect got untied and dropped Dennis. Mic winced at the audible ‘SHIT!” Dennis yelled out. Mic leaned back and tried to think how he could let everyone know what’s up here.

Suddenly an idea struck. Mic set his bag down and scrounged up a piece of parchment. Getting dirt, he drew out what a Griffon looked like with his shitty drawing abilities and tried to write “Griffon” on the top of the page. Crumpling it up, Mic peered over the edge and threw the paper ball down. Mic waited patiently to see what the group would do. As the group was puzzling over his work of art, which was odd because it’s obviously a Griffon, Mic suddenly sees an arrow fly out of the bushes and lands near the group, which immediately sends Mic into a panic. Well fuck was all he could think as he pulls out his bow for a fight.


End file.
